| Nastiness on the Island of Jersey |
September 27, 2009
Yesterday I read Something Nasty In The Woodshed by Kyril Bonfiglioli, an author recommended to me by a Read All Day reader who reads a lot. I picked this Bonfiglioli from his three-part series of Charlie Mortdecai mysteries because of its evocative title taken from the wonderfully hilarious novel Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons. Something Nasty In the Woodshed is indeed nasty, a mix of drawing room mystery and very black noir. Starring a dissolute recreation of the Nick and Nora Charles sleuthing duo, and supported by a plethora of exceedingly eccentric type characters, this novel has so many very, very, very funny lines that even amidst the decidedly politically incorrect plot and its horribly grim resolution, I was laughing my head off.
Set on Jersey, this book gives quite a different take on the Channel Islands than that presented in The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (perhaps it is the difference between Jersey and Guernsey). Populated by lunatics, drunkards, and sex fiends and visited by tourists that are even worse, the island of Jersey is the perfect settling point for the debauched but grimily charming Charlie Mortdecai and his wealthy, winsome, and wacky wife Johanna. When a series of assaults begin to plague the neighbors, Charlie takes aim at uncovering the culprit, setting off a slew of mishaps, misconceptions, and misunderstandings, along with the death of one priest, the burying alive of a few toads in jars, and the unraveling of a seriously deranged neighbor with bad body odor and a mask of rubber.
For all its filth and odor, Something Nasty in the Woodshed is refreshing for its undercutting of social niceties, its portrayal of English education and wealth in all its glory, and its positively repulsive plot, as well as its almost constant pitch of one-liners, long declamations, and spot-on observations, all hysterically funny and accurate and true. I will definitely read the other two tomes in the Mortdecai series, Don't Point That Thing At Me and After You With The Pistol.
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